[Introduction: Memories are a strange thing, there are tangible memories that
can be proven factually, there are suppressed memories which are clouded
recollections of actual events, memories that are a mixture of real and unreal
events, memories based on imagination and possibly most frightening of all,
memories that have been intentionally "programmed" within the mind
of a person, which might consist of anything between actual real life
experiences to entirely "designer" memories that may have been
inserted to "cover up" experiences that are far more stranger than
fiction. Just where in the spectrum the experiences of Andy Pero may fit, I do
not know exactly, although many of the places and people he describes DO exist
as evidenced by the links that I've added... so at least a good number of his
memories are apparently accurate... but the question is, are his reported
experiences with the alien time/space projects as carried out in the Montauk
bases also based on fact, and if so to what degree? Others have made similar
claims about montauk {although these fantastic experiences do not appear until
the last few sections of Andy's story} as can be seen by doing a SEARCH of the
Internet for other writings on the Montauk Project. So here then -- for those
very few readers who will view this page -- is Andy Pero's story... - Alan]

*********************

This is my story, and this is my life. This is the time line in which events
occurred as well as I can recall. As I slowly regain my memory this is my life
as I can remember it. This is however just a rough outline and many of the
parallel timelines which coexist during my life have been left out of this
document. As time goes by more and more of the pieces will fall into place.

Here is my time line

My father graduates from the US Navel Academy class of '63 (Michael A. Pero
Jr.).

Aug 1966-Nov 1968- My family is stationed at the CB's Construction Battalion
Center in Hueneme, California.

Nov 1968- My family moves to Fallon Nevada. My father is the LT. Commander at
the Fallon Navel Air Station in Fallon Nevada.

July 12th 1971- My father resigns his commission as the LT. Commander at the
Fallon Navel Air Station and leaves the Navy. We move to New Jersey, and he
begins work in the private sector.

June 1974- July 1976- My father begins a new job overseas, and we move to
Munich, Germany. {note: capital of bavaria, as in, "bavarian"
illuminati - branton}. I am 5 years old. I attended to two different schools
at this time, the German kindergarten in the morning, and then the English
kindergarten afternoon (kindergarten and then 1st grade). This is where the
first discrepancies begin between my memory and my parents.

I remember living in Germany. I remember our apartment, and how our cat "twinkee"
would not listen to anyone who called her in German. But if anyone, no matter
who it was called her in English she would come running. I remember my best
friend was a little girl with long straight brown hair and brown eyes. I ate
dinner over her house and I remember after dinner she took two beers out of
her parents refrigerator and we drank them in her driveway. I was all worried
we were going to get in trouble, but she said she drank beer all the time. I
took about three sips and felt like I was going to throw up. I wanted to dump
mine out but she didn't want to waste the beer, so she drank mine too. I
remember my sister trying to teach me how to dance and she flung me around the
apartment so fast I was thrown into the corner of the wall and cut my head
open and had to go and get stitches. I remember all of this.

But most importantly I remember the German kindergarten. I remember the
teacher and how she looked. She was very nice to me and had long wavy brown
and gray hair, and looked like she swallowed a tire around her waist as she
was heavy set. I remember being introduced to my first "gummy bear"
and how I thought they were the "coolest thing ever". Being an
American and being the physically biggest kid in the class I was a sort of the
class celebrity, and the center of attention. I remember the mini pool they
had outside, it was only about a foot deep, but we would strip down to our
underwear and when it was warm outside go in for a swim. I remember all of
these things, but when it comes to the "American" school I
supposedly went to in the afternoon. I DON'T REMEMBER ANYTHING! I have no
memory of another class room, I have no memories of another building, I have
no memories of any friends, people, or teachers, no memory of even going to
another school. WHAT I DO REMEMBER IS AN AIR BASE. I remember as I was walking
up to it for the first time it was a huge place with a big chain link fence
around it.

There were airplanes and miles and miles of cement. And I don't remember the
man who was walking with me but I DO remember asking him "why are you
taking me here?" and he answered "Because of your father!"
"But my father was in the Navy, why are you taking me to an air
base?" I asked again. And the man answers "Son, all branches of the
military work very closely together." "But he is no longer in the
Navy?" I answered. And he said "We are doing this as a 'special'
favor for your father." "Why" I asked. "BECAUSE WE TAKE
CARE OF OUR OWN!" he says as his tone has changed, and then he said
"you sure do ask a lot of questions you little shit." I remember
this hurt my feelings because I wasnít trying to be a little shit, I just
wanted to know why there were taking me to this strange place. I don't
remember being inside of the air base, all I remember is the inside of a
doctor's room. An examining room. They made me strip down to my underwear and
sit on this shinny metal table. I remember the table being very cold, so cold
that I asked if I could move or get off it and a big booming voice shouts out
"DO NOT MOVE AND DO NOT SPEAK UNLESS YOU ARE SPOKEN TO." So I sat
there with goose bumps on my legs. I hear movement behind me and I hear
"is this the kid" and a man comes over and starts examining me with
his hands, with a stethoscope, and hits my knee with a rubber hammer. That's
all I remember. I was 5 years old.

I never really thought about it much, but as I began writing all this down, I
casually asked my mother for the name of the air base in Germany where I went
to school in the afternoon.

She said "you never went to any military air base for school in
Germany." "Really" I said. "Then where did I go to school
in Germany?" I asked her. "Some school of the "Americus"
at the university or something." She said. "FOR KINDERGARTEN!!"
I said. "Mom that doesn't make any sense, I went to a military base for
English school because Dad was in the Navy, right???" "Don't be
ridicules, I'm your mother and I know where and when you went to school!"
she says. "OK; Then what was the name of the school in Germany mom!"
I ask. And she thinks and thinks and she can't remember the name. We then
proceed to have a huge argument about this. She finally walks away and says
she doesn't want to talk about it any more.

I had always just assumed that I went to the German kindergarten in the
morning and then the air base in the afternoon, because of the connection
through my father and that ís why I was there. If I never had asked my mother
for the name of the air base, I never would have thought twice about any of
this. I never really thought about it much, but now that I do think about it.
I clearly remember the German kindergarten, and clearly I remember the air
base and the examining room. I don't remember ever going to any other school
or having any other friends from that school or even being there. I do
remember the conversation with the man as to why they were taking me there,
and I do remember the examining room. It ís like a 5 second clip of a 10
minute movie. Just a couple of seconds and then it stops, and yet you somehow
know there is much more.

When I asked my father if he knew where I went to school in Germany. He
replied "sure" the McGraw Kaserne Army Troop Air Base. When I asked
him about the examinations. He replied "we were told by a doctor that you
had a "heart murmur or heart noise", it was nothing serious but they
wanted to examine me several times anyway." The thing is later on after I
graduated college I went into see a cardiologist. I had been having chest
pains for years from the massive steroid injections they had given me my
freshmen year in college, I had developed arthritis in the cartilage between
my ribs from my rib cage expanding so fast from the steroids.

When I asked about my "heart noise" the cardiologist showed me my
print out and showed me that my heart beat was absolutely perfect, and there
is absolutely no sign of ANY "heart noise" what so ever!

Aug 1976- We move back to New Jersey, I begin 1st grade, again, in the local
school system. My mother held me back believing that I would do better in my
schooling if I was one of the "older" kids in the class rather than
one of the "youngest" (I guess my birthday was right on the border
and it could have gone either way).

Sept 1979- My parents have been belligerent toward each other for some time
now, and decide to get a divorce (at this point they separate). I am now 9
years old and am entering the 4th grade. As children, the school system tests
all children's IQ levels, I remember being told that I was an "absolute
genius". I don't know what my IQ was but this was met with utter
disbelief and I was mocked and ridiculed by the parents and teachers because I
was the "Big dumb Jock". As I was by far the biggest kid in the
class, and the best athlete. However I had a severe stuttering problem. I was
considered to be the class idiot, because I never spoke, and I never did well
in school. {note: ironically, my own father was in the Navy, I was also held
back a grade, and did not do well in school... except in arts, but in
mathematics and similar subjects i failed misterably - branton} So the fact
that I was this "genius" must have been wrong, and the parents of
one of the most affluent areas in New Jersey would not accept that this big
stuttering idiot could possibly be smarter then their sons and daughters so it
was dismissed. I had had the stuttering problem for as long as I can remember
and all throughout my childhood I literally could not speak a complete
sentence, many time I could not even speak a word. The thing is I cannot
remember when or why I started stuttering, but I do remember being able to
speak German fluently without any problem at all and having no speech problems
German or English at all. I stuttered severely from about the time we got back
from Germany up until the age of 25.

March 1981- My mother enrolls me in the "Silva Mind Control" course,
and this is where I first remember meeting "the men in uniform." The
Silva Mind Control method is sort of a self hypnosis course where you learn to
dive down into the different levels of your mind. You learn things like how to
heal your body with your mind, relaxation techniques, ways to focus your
concentration, and melt spoons with your mind (things like that). You may have
heard of it? Anyway, while in the course we learned to go to our
"level" (a relaxed state of mind which is the bases of the Silva
method). I was extremely good at all of the things we were doing for some
reason right from the start. Children who are 11 years old are very cruel to
each other. And what happened was the whole class as a group would close their
eyes and practice "going to your level" but as I came out of my
"level" I would open my eyes and find that the WHOLE class was
turned around in their chairs and they had been watching me for 15 to 20
minutes. They had been watching my rapid eye movements, my body and my
technique. As I came out of it, they all began laughing at me. The instructor
however, was praising me like I was the next god's gift to mankind. Telling me
that I was the greatest student he has ever seen etc. etc..

During one of the breaks (about six weeks into the eight week course) the
instructor asks me to go outside to meet some of his "friends". I go
outside with him (and let me tell you, when you are 10 years old and you are
in a class room for two hours at a time on your Saturdays and Sundays for
eight straight weeks you ABSOLUTELY live for your 15 minute breaks) so
needless to say I was not very interested in wasting my "break time"
talking to whoever these people were. We go out the double doors and there are
two men waiting to talk to me.

THEY BOTH WERE WEARING MILITARY UNIFORMS, one was wearing army green, and the
other was in blue (possible air force but I can't be sure). The instructor
states to the men "this is the kid" and they make some small talk.
To be honest I really didn't pay much attention to them (I was looking at the
other kids on the play ground and wondering why the hell I'm over here and not
over there). But here's the main point; The man in green bends down on one
knee and says to me "I hear you have some very special abilities"
and I said "I do"? In a very confused response. He stands back up
and speaks to the instructor some more, then kneels back down and says
"It was very nice meeting you, YOU KNOW YOUR GOING TO WORK FOR ME SOME
DAY!" As an 11 year old you don't quite grasp what is really going on and
I remember laughing and telling him that I didn't quite understand, but it was
nice meeting him, and I ran off to the play ground. But when I looked back,
the three adults were still standing there looking at me, talking about me,
and sizing me up.

I just seemed to have an uncanny ability to do what ever the teacher
instructed the class to do. Everything he instructed us to
"envision" in our minds I could do better that anyone else in the
class. Bending spoons with your mind, going to your "level",
anything. I am now 11 years old and about to enter the 6th grade.

Sept 1981- I enter the 6th grade. I had been playing organized sports for a
few years already (T-Ball, parent slow pitch etc..), but now was the time for
the first REAL challenge "the 8th grade school soccer team." When
the school soccer tryouts came I tried out for the 8th grade soccer team as a
6th grader. The coach was against that because he didn't think I could play
with the older boys, but he let me tryout anyway. Well, I made the team, but I
was so good I turned out to be the best kid on the team, and we were the best
team in the county. I just had an uncanny ability to do what ever the coach
asked me to do. For example, the first day of tryouts the coach kicks the ball
to me and jokingly says "I want you to take this ball, go down the field
and score a goal" The thing is, I PICTURED IN MY MIND MYSELF GOING DOWN
THE FIELD AND SCOREING THE GOAL. THEN I TOOK THE BALL DRIBBLED THROUGH 4 GUYES
AND I DID IT! I didn't think about doing it, I just did it.

It was like it was mind over matter. It ís funny because honestly I could do
things that were so unbelievable on the soccer field. You have to see it to
believe it. Here is how; I honestly didn't know any better. I didn't know that
I wasn't supposed to be able to do that, just take the ball down the field by
yourself and score EVERY TIME! But in my mind, I could do it, so I did it in
real life EVERY TIME. When the opposing teams coaches asked how old I was,
when I told them they didn't believe me, after the games were over they would
thank me for not running up the score and humiliating "their boys".
That's how good I was and I do have video tapes of the games to prove it!

I not only made the team but started at left wing, and I was exceptional.
Later in the year I also made the 8th grade school Basketball team and the
Baseball team. I didn't start as a 6th grader in Basketball or Baseball but I
did play. Just making the teams as a 6th grader was almost an incomprehensible
feat, we were by far the dominate school in the county in almost everything
(always the team to beat). I was very good for my age at Baseball and
Basketball, but for what ever reason I was untouchable when I was on the
soccer field.

It's funny, how can someone do things, they are not supposed to be able to do?
Whether it is a feat of physical strength or skill, or it is a feat of great
intellect or will, such as an actor or a professional athlete beating the odds
against them and "making it", when all others said that it couldn't
be done.

Anything that we do as human beings, whether it be a sporting event, starting
a business, going to college or simply deciding to venture out on your own
away from home for the first time. ANY TASK YOU CHOOSE TO UNDER TAKE, OR ANY
FIGHT YOU CHOOSE TO FIGHT. 90% OF WHAT IT TAKES TO ATTAIN YOUR GOAL, NO MATTER
WHAT THAT GOAL MAY BE, IS ALL MENTAL. AND FROM THAT FEAR IS THE KEY TO IT ALL!
IF YOU CAN CONTROL YOUR FEAR YOU CAN CONTROL YOUR MIND, AND IF YOU CAN CONTROL
YOUR MIND YOU CAN CONTROL YOUR LIFE. If you can understand that everything we
do as human beings is 90% mental, and 10% physical, you understand the secret
to life. And you will do well, at what ever you choose to do! For myself,
somehow using the Silva Mind Control methods, I had the ability to picture
myself performing extraordinary feats on the playing field, and then somehow
accomplishing them in reality with ease, just like it was second nature. Don't
think, just do.

June 1982- My parents, when they were still together, had invested in several
houses in the area, and rented them out as supplemental income. In June of
1982, my mother, my self and my sister move into the house we used to rent out
in Ramsey, and put the house we just left on the market for sale (basically my
father moved into one house we owned in Waldwick, we moved into the other
house in Ramsey, and my parents sold the "big" house in Ho-Ho-Kus we
all used to live in and split the money in the divorce). Our "new"
house in Ramsey was located only about 10 minutes from the old house in Ho-Ho-Kus
but it was in a different school district. I am 12 years old and going into
7th grade. Also starting in a new school.

July 11th 1983- My mother had been dating a man who's name was Walter Johnson.
They had been seeing each other for the past 2 years or so and were engaged to
be married. My parent's had finalized their divorce earlier that year, he had
been separated from his wife for about 4 years. On July 11th 1983, Mr. Johnson
went over to his soon to be x-wife's house to sign and finalize their divorce
papers. Unknown to Mr. Johnson, his soon to be x-wife (Sally Johnson) had
stolen a .357 magnum pistol from her brother.

What happened next was the following, as Mr. Johnson was hunched over at his
desk in the basement of his old house signing the divorce papers. Sally
Johnson came up behind him and said "If I cannot have you no one else
will" and shot him in the back of his head. He died instantly, and when
the police finally found him two days later his head had been completely blown
off his body. EVERY WORD OF THIS UNFORTUNATELY IS ALL TRUE. His name again was
Walter Johnson. He was the Director for Senior Executive Personnel for the
EXXON Oil Corp. New York office. He was killed on July 11th 1983 in Ridgewood,
New Jersey. He was my mother's fiancee.

My mother, for the next several years was beyond any rational means of
description in terms of hysteria, and grieving. Her German friend Astrid was a
great help in her time of need. What this did to me however was the following.
As a 12 year boy, coming home from school and seeing and hearing your mother
crying EVERYDAY, AND ALL DAY and then ALL NIGHT, AND EVERY NIGHT is very hard
on a 12 year old boy. She was beyond the word devastated. So, obviously at the
time, I'm not too anxious to go home after school. For a while I got into some
trouble (hanging out with the wrong crowd that sort of thing). Then I
discovered my new passion, working out and WEIGHTLIFTING! It became an
obsession. In the 7th grade I began working out everyday. I would ride my bike
up to the high school every day and workout for hours, and I mean 2 to 3 hours
EVERYDAY (anything to avoid going home)!

Dec 1983- From the start I was an exceptionally strong kid. Again, somehow I
just had the ability to picture doing something in my mind (see my self doing
it) and then do it in real life. Using the Silva mind control I would lay in
bed and mentally go through the next day's workout. For example, I would go to
my "level" and concentrate. I would picture myself bench pressing
195 for 10 reps, then 205 for 8, 215 for 6 etc.. I bench pressed 305 pounds in
the 8th grade. This was more than anyone in the high school could do. Needless
to say I was HATTED by all the high school upper classmen football players
before I even got into high school. I am 14 years old and in the 8th grade. I
also set the grade school high jump record (5'-10") and tied the 60, 100,
and 200 yard dash records.

Aug-1984- 1987- My first three years in high school were NOT typical. I played
football in the fall. Specifically did not play Basketball in the winter so I
could workout everyday. Threw the shot put and the discuss in the spring
(track and field) and then would workout like a mad man in the summer to get
ready for football in the fall again. I excelled in all the sports in which I
participated in.

As a Freshman, I was one of the best running back in the county. We were
division champions, and the head varsity football coach (Coach Hyman) asked me
to practice with the Varsity squad for the Thanksgiving day game. The
quarterback and captain of the football team (Peter Bebei) when he got word of
this cornered me in the hall with about six other football players and he told
me that if I showed up to practice for his final game that he and all the
other guys were going to beat the shit out of me in the parking lot. He did
not want me "stealing his thunder" for his final game. I didn't go
out for the Thanksgiving game and this really annoyed Coach Hyman since he
believed that I had turned him down. Track season comes in the spring and I go
out for the track team. I go out for shot put and the discuss as well as the
100 yard dash and the high jump. Coach Hyman coaches the "weight"
throwers and won't allow me to throw with the varsity even though I am the
third best thrower on the team. I confront him about this and finally he lets
me throw. In the 100 the fastest kid (I forget his name) tells me after the
first day of track practice that if I beat him again that he is going to kick
my ass. So I don't try my best. Why does every one hate me? I keep asking
myself. I earn a varsity letter in track anyway.

In the fall Sophomore year Coach Hyman is having real problems with his
marriage and being an utter ASS Hole to everyone (teachers, students, and
athletes ). One of my talents, if you will, is that I can judge a person's
character within minutes of meeting them. By their body language, gestures,
personality etc. I can size up the person's worst fear, what they are feeling,
what they want all in a matter of moments. It's like reading a person's soul
as easily as you are reading these words. I just seem to have a
"knack" for it. Anyway, I walk into Coach Hyman's office during one
of the breaks and say to him "don't worry Coach, everything will work out
with you and your wife." Trying to be helpful. He freaks out and starts
yelling "get out of here you F*CKING piece of shit and don't come back
because YOU WILL NEVER PLAY HERE AS LONG AS I AM THE COACH." The next day
he brings me into the deans office and tells me to "quit" because I
will never play at Ramsey High school. I never quit but for the next two years
everyday at practice he would scream at me to "get off his field"
and I wouldn't. Not for any great love for him or the game by any means. It
was simply stay and get yelled at or go home to my hysterically crying mother.
So I stayed and took his abuse but he felt so violated that I knew what was
going on in his life he didn't want me any where near him, and of course I was
right next to him for everything because I wouldn't quit. This made him
extremely hostile towards me.

This continued all through high school. The thing is, every now and then,
whether it was going into the locker room at half time or after the game
getting back on the bus, or at the track meets I REMEMBER seeing the same two
military men (Mr. Green and Mr. Blue). I would play in 10 football games per
year and throw in approximately 20 twenty track meets a year. Thinking back I
only saw these men 2 or 3 times a year. To be honest I only remember seeing
these men twice at football games during my four years in high school. Both
times I was walking off the field after the game and I started looking for my
parents and I looked into the crowd, and they were, just standing there in the
middle of a sea of moving people looking right at me. And I said the same
thing "that's odd, what the Hell are those two guys doing here." And
again I would just dismiss it. I would mainly see them at the track meets. Let
me explain, in High school track there are two types of meets. The track team
schedule consisted of 10-12 "Bi or Tri" meets, when our school
competes against another school, or two other schools, in which case it is a
tri meet. These are small meets and I NEVER saw these men during one of them.
The other types of meets are the county meets, relay meets, and state meets.
These meets consist of 20 to 30 TEAMS being there. As such these are huge
events. I would say between 5,000 and 10,000 people would be there (I mean
some of these things were HUGE events). Anyway, how did I pick out these two
men among 10,000 people. The way these meets work is everyone sort of goes to
their own area. The pole volters go to the pole volt area, the high jumpers go
to the high jump pit, and each area has it's own crowd which then forms around
each area (all the coaches of those athletes, the parents etc. etc.). So, the
shot put circle usually is over and off to the side somewhere, basically clear
of everything else. As we began to throw, all the competing athletes, the
coaches, and the parents would all sort of gather in the same area to watch
the event.

At least once a year at one of these big meets my eye would just catch the odd
site of these two men in uniform at these meets. I honestly convinced myself
that at least one of them had to have a son that was competing or something.
It wasn't unusual to see men in uniforms at the track meets because other kids
were going to go to school at the military academies and as the meets
transpired I occasionally saw other men in uniforms walking around and talking
to people. For example the shot putter from Lodi was going to go to West
Point, and I saw another man in a green uniform over talking to him. What made
this all so weird was the two men I'm talking about were looking at me and I
didn't know why. I didn't put it all together until years later. May-1987-

Track season junior year, at one of the major relay meets, it was announced
the prior week that there was going to be a "clean and jerk weightlifting
contest" sponsored by some guy I had never heard of. I of course was all
excited, and trained that week on my technique.

As it turns out all it was, was a guy with some rubber mats and a Olympic
barbell set in the middle of a grass field. I took second place with a lift of
265 lbs power cleaned to the chest and then pressed over my head. The kid who
won was a senior and did 275. It was just sort of a "friendly"
contest. I am 17 years old and in 11th grade.

July-1987- It's summer time and I am training for football. I get a call from
a coach I had never spoke to before, coach Himmel? Humle? Burle? I can't
remember his exact name or his phone number but I do remember that he is from
somewhere in Colorado. Anyway, he is the United States Power lifting team
coach and he wants me to drop everything that I am doing and move to Colorado
on a whims notice, to go train for the clean and jerk. I asked him in
confusion why he was calling me, I finished second in the contest? He then
says to me I finished second but the guy I lost to was a year older but more
importantly he was also 50 pounds heavier. So pound for pound I was much
stronger and as it turns out that in my age group and for my weight (17 years
old and between 201 and 229 lbs.) I was ranked fifth in the country, in this
one particular lift. This may seem like a dream come true for me, but let me
tell you. Just like with anything you do, even if you really enjoy it, there
can be things you really hate about it as well. The power clean and the clean
and jerk were my absolute least favorite exercises. To be blunt, I loved
working out but I despised those particular two exercises especially. This
along with the fact that I could not just "get up and leave my
mother." She was doing much better, but by no stretch of the imagination
could her mental condition be considered to be "stable." I am 17
years old and about to enter the 12th grade and I do not go to Colorado to
train for the U.S. power lifting team.

Aug-1987- Football camp senior year, I test in the bench press 390 lbs, in the
squat 505 lbs, and in the power clean 280 lbs. We finish the season 6-3 and
are division champs. I begin working out again and I start to think about
college.

Dec 1987-May 1988- My workouts continue very well. However I develop a
"new idea". Now when I go through my workout mentally at night I
have added a new "twist". When I am down on my "level" in
my mind I have added a huge chair in the room in which I am standing. Using my
Silva mind control I sit in the chair. On the left hand side of the chair are
some "air hoses" like you would find in a auto garage. I imagine,
that on both of my arms there are these "air hoses" coming out of my
arms. Like an I-V hose coming out of your arm. This is my "pump up
chair". In my mind I connect the hoses coming out of my arms to the hoses
on the side of the chair. I push a button located on the right arm of the
chair with my right index finger and the chair activates. Like an air station
I can feel the vibrations as I sit in the chair. As I sit there I see my
entire body start to swell. Like blowing up a balloon. I mentally tell my
muscles to grow and swell like balloons, AND THEY DO! I do this for about six
weeks.

This works so well that many of the parents and teachers think that I am now
doing steroids. I am not, but the situation snow balls into some kind of
"witch hunt" and they make me take a steroid test. What happened was
as I am working out one day Father Jack (the local priest who is always
hanging around the kids and the football team) comes into the weight room as I
am working out. He says to me "Andy, there is a lot of talk about your
steroid usage, and if you admit it to me right now every thing will be all
right." "Father Jack" I said "I donít use steroids."
He says "I'm going to ask you one more time to admit to using
steroids." I look him right in the eye and I say "Look Father, I
DON'T use steroids." And he got very angry and says to me and I will
never forget this "Donít ever speak to me again you f*cking liar, they
are going to hang you by you balls and I am going to be there to watch!"

A few days later Jeff Brown (one of the kids on the team) comes in to the
weight room and tells me that Father Jack wants to see me at the grammar
school as soon as I am done. When I finish my workout I go up to the school
and Father Jack is waiting for me impatiently. He grabs my arm and I get
brought in front of some kind of panel in the basement of the grade school
located down the street. There are four members of the panel and the rest of
the room is filled with teachers and parents. Dr. Purrizzo who is the chief
orthopedic surgeon at valley hospital in Bergen county New Jersey. Bergen
county is the third most affluent area in the country, and the towns of Saddle
River and Ramsey are in the top towns in the country in terms of wealth. Dr.
Purrizzo is a heavy heavy hitter in the area if you know what I mean. When
President Nixon, who resided in Saddle River before he died, hurt his knee
playing tennis Dr. Purrizzo was the surgeon who performed the operation, and
for a while was on the Presidential list of referral surgeons. I am standing
in front of the panel and he starts pressing me to "admit" that I am
doing steroids. And I keep answering that "I DIDN'T DO IT!". He
keeps pressing me saying that among the panel they hold seven PHDíS and he
thinks they know what they are talking about so "make it easy on yourself
and just admit it". And I keep telling them that "I DON'T GIVE A
SHIT WHAT YOU SAY AND I DON'T CARE WHO YOUR ARE AND WHAT YOUR CREDENTIALS ARE,
I DIDN'T DO IT!" He tells me to take off my shirt to the show the acne on
my back, but there is no acne. This sort of thing goes on for a while and he
finally tells me to "take off your shorts or admit to doing
steroids". What could I do, so I took off my shorts and I volunteered to
give a urine sample. I had to piss in a cup in front of the panel as well as
everyone else wearing only my sneakers. He is very pissed at me and does not
give me my shorts back for quite a while. This whole time one of the other
members of the board is Dr. Purrizzoís friend. He is a Psychologist and
between the two of them they now start saying that they are going lock me up
in for being mentally insane if I donít admit to taking steroids. And again I
say "LOOK, I DIDN'T DO IT!". This goes on and on. I had gone through
a whole defense proving that I didn't do it and no matter what I said and no
matter what proof I presented I was going to be hanged whether I did it or
not. Finally I say "Tell me how you know that I take steroids, what's
your proof, do you have a camera in my house or something, how do you
know?" Finally after much persuasion from the crowd and from myself
reluctantly, he begins to explain that he has a degree in genetics, and that
he has been studying my genetic code for years. He then goes on to explain how
his son's genetic pattern is superior to mine in terms of dominate DNA
markers. He had been doing a private "thesis" study showing how
through superior genetic breeding and steroid usage he could create a superior
human being. He had a test subject and a control subject.

His son was the test subject and I was the control subject. He had been
injecting his own son with steroids for years and since his son's DNA pattern
was superior to mine, his son, in theory, should have been more physically
developed then me. And since he wasn't, Dr. Purrizzo's only explanation was
that I must have been taking steroids as well, and he must prove that I was or
else his life's work would have been wasted.

This was all a great theory, however the fatal flaw where he had made his
mistake was that he had assumed that I was of Italian background because my
last name is "Pero". So he was comparing my DNA patterns against the
same ones he had used for his son who is Italian. He never bothered to ask if
I was Italian, I am NOT. My background is Hungarian, Romanian, and Czech. This
makes all the difference in the world, and I manage to get out of there
unscathed.

When the test comes back, it is negative, and I tell all those involved that
they can go "stick it where the sun doesn't shine." The whole
episode is quite funny as I turned their "witch hunt" into a circus,
especially my defensive strategy. For the rest of the school year all the
people who were at the trial all gave me the dirtiest looks imaginable. All
because I had the utter nerve to stand up for my self and say "I didnít
do it!" This was Ramsey New Jersey, and the feeling in the air was that
they didn't care if I was falsely accused they would not stand for a child
talking to them in that manner.

It was all videotaped, and at one time there were several copies floating
around. Anyway, as a result of this, I stop using this technique for the
present time. But that was far from the end of Dr. Purrizzo. I am 18 years old
and in the second half of my senior year of high school. This experience was
very scary for the reason that I saw the "adult" world for what it
really was. As a child you grow up believing that all adults are "all
knowing" and are on top of things. But as I stood there and Dr. Purrizzo
is telling me that if I did't admit to taking steroids that he was going to
have me committed to a mental institution and have a lobotomy performed on me.
As I looked around ALL the other adults just stood around like scared sheep.
Not one of them said a word in my defense. This was the strangest feeling,
seeing the adult world as a child for what it really was for the first time. I
realized then that adults are exactly the same as the children, only they are
bigger. There is one bully that runs the show, and everyone else just stands
around scared to say anything. Just as they do as children.

Now and for the past several months college football recruiters have been in
contact with me both by mail and personal visits as the selection process
narrows. I should have been already "signed" by a major University.
But since Hyman made me disappear from the college scouts for two years by not
playing me. I had fallen out of the "Blue chip athlete loop" and I
am now scrambling to find a school. I am talking to two or three smaller
division two and division three schools as well as Penn State. Penn State had
been where I wanted to go all along but Hyman was trying to cover for what he
had been doing to me by lying to the Penn State coaching staff, sending them
the wrong films, telling them different statistics things like that, because
he didn't want to have to explain why I didn't play at all as a sophomore and
hardly as a Junior. Finally he gets exposed, and Penn State offers me a
scholarship for my first year and then a "full ride" after that. I
was going to get free room and board, all I had to pay for was books and
classes (an out of state student was going to be about $3000).

It is the track season, at the county track meet (the championship meet). I
win the discus and set the county and state record with a throw of 167 feet
and 11 inches. I finish second in the shot put with a throw of 57 feet and 3
inches. AT THIS MEET I VIVIDLY REMEMBER SEEING THE TWO MEN IN MILITARY
UNIFORMS WATCHING ME. They were right there, for both events and watched me
set the record.

Ever since I had gotten my drivers license I used to like to unwind a little
before going home. So I would ride around the area and play music in my car. A
few days after the trial while riding around a bronco type vehicle is flashing
their headlights at me from behind, so I pull over. This happened on West
Saddle River Road, and I pulled into a small parking lot right next to the red
building where my step mother used to sell real-estate. It is Mrs. Purrizzo
driving the bronco, she is an incredibly beautiful woman (late thirties with a
lot of plastic surgery). She was at the trial and during it lets just say that
I had made her blush when I was standing in only my sneakers. There is another
woman with her. A woman I had never seen before. She had long black hair and
dark eyes she was even more beautiful that Mrs. Purizzo. They tell me to get
in the back of the bronco (when you are 18 years old and two of the most
beautiful women you have ever seen tell you to get in the back of their car it
is difficult to resist) so I play along and I do. Mrs. Purrizzo hands me a
small plastic shot glass (like something you would see in a hospital) it has
some kind of clear liquid in it and she tells me that it's water and I must be
thirsty and that I should drink it. I'm thinking to my self "she has got
to be kidding if she thinks I'm going to fall for that." I take the glass
and pretend to drink it behind the high back head rest of the drivers seat but
in reality place it still full on the floor mat behind the drivers seat. The
women then start to giggle and make small talk by telling me how handsome I
am, and how big and strong I am. I know exactly what's going on and I play
along. I return the complements by telling them that they are the most
beautiful women that I have ever seen, and when I look in their eyes I become
lost floating on a sea of dreams. I made both of them blush with that one.
Then they ask me if I am ready to go with them. "Go where" I ask.
"To the hotel room of course" Mrs. Purrizzo answers. "You can
go to the hotel room if you want to but I am going home" I say. She asks
me "are you sure you don't want to come with us?" she asks.
"Positive" I answer and I start to get out of the bronco. "Oh
yea" I say "Here is your water back" and I hand them the small
plastic shot glass. They look at each other and cannot hold back their smile
and look away and to the floor. I get out and say "see you later". I
get in my car and drive home.

The next evening at about the same time, but in the exact same spot, and in
the exact same car the two women pull me over again. And again I pull onto the
same small parking lot on West Saddle River Road. I get out but this time I go
only to the window. Mrs. Purrizzo has the drivers window rolled down and says
to me "Andy, can you kill this for me" and hands me a coke can with
just a little bit left of something left in the bottom. Again I am thinking to
my self "who the f*ck does she think she is kidding with this." I
say "SURE" and I take the can of coke from her and walk over to the
dumpster and toss it in. I walk back to the car and I can tell from the look
in her face that she is pissed off. I say "anything else" and I turn
my back to her and walk away. I get in my car and drive away.

The next night the same thing happens, in the same spot at the same time. I
pull over and get out of my car angry. As I walk over to her bronco I say
"Look this stupid game has gone on long enough". She interrupts me
and says "Andy, PLEASE just get in because we have to talk." I say
"NO", and she begs "Andy, PLEASE!" As she almost has tears
in her eyes. Like an idiot I reluctantly get in. This time they have a bottle
of Vodka with three small plastic shot glasses. The woman with the black hair
pours the three small glasses full and hands me one. I had had enough and I
say In a rude tone "DO YOU REALLY THINK THAT I AM SO STUPID TO BELIEVE
THAT THAT'S REALLY VODKA IN THAT GLASS!" She says to me "were sorry
for fooling with you and want to make peace, will you have a drink with
us?" I knew from the get go that what ever she was giving me had to be
drugged with something, but at the same time I felt somehow that there was
going to be no getting out of this. I was not afraid of Dr. Purrizzo because I
really never did steroids and I had nothing to hide, I just wanted it all to
be over. So I thought about what to do and finally I said to her
""MRS. PURRIZZO I WILL DRINK THAT GLASS OF WHAT EVER IT IS ON ONE
CONDITION AND ONE CONDITION ONLY! IF YOU SWEAR, IF YOU PROMISE THAT YOU WILL
NOT LET THEM HURT ME. DO YOU SWEAR YOU WON'T LET THEM HURT ME!" And of
course she swears that she won't let them hurt me, and of course like an idiot
I drink the glass of "Vodka". I am out with in seconds.

When I wake up I am in a hotel room. I am sitting in a chair and it is very
difficult to keep my eyes open, but I can make out several dark figures in
various spots around the room. I couldn't keep my eyes open but I could hear.
They had given me sodium pentathol and were now going to get the
"truth" out of me. I can barley see him but I know it's Dr. Purrizzo.
He starts asking me questions. "Andy what kind of steroids do you
take?" "I don't use steroids" I answer. I can hear him cursing
as he asks me again, "Andy, you wouldn't lie to me would you, I'm going
to ask you again, What kind of steroids do you take." And again I answer
"I already told you I DON'T USE STEROIDS!" and I hear him ranting
and raving. His friend the psychologist then comes over and asks to take a
try. The line of questioning changes from direct to indirect questions. He
asks "Andy, tell me, where do you buy your steroids?" I answer
"I have never bought steroids." He asks "How long have you been
taking the steroids?" and again I answer "I've never taken
steroids". Dr. Purrizzo is now furious and he is ranting I'll get it out
of him and he stabs me in my right thigh with a syringe and injects me with
more sodium pentathol. I think I lost consciousness for a while and then the
questioning begins again. "Where do you buy your steroids?" and
again I answer "I don't use steroids." This goes on and on for a
while finally the psychologist comes over and asks me "Andy, if you don't
use steroids how do you explain your abnormal physique?" Simple, I answer
"I CHEAT!" What do you mean by "you cheat" he asks.
"I USE THE POWER OF MY MIND TO BUILD MY MUSCLES; IT WORKS PRETTY GOOD..
DOSEN'T IT?" and I remember a big smile coming over my face as I felt
proud of what I could do. And they all come over to me and I then proceed to
explain the Silva Mind Control method that I use. How I go to my level. The
psychologist asks me to do it now, and I find myself explaining my trip down
into my mind. When I get to my "level" I give them a tour of
"my room". They are all talking in astonishment. "WAIT" I
say "HERE IS THE BEST PART" and I explain to them the "pump up
chair" I use to grow my muscles, the underground stadium where "I
can do anything" on this "magic" field.

I hear the psychologist yelling at Dr. Purrizzo "And you want to give
this kid a lobotomy, I COULD MAKE A F*CKING CAREER OUT OF THIS KID!!!" He
said something like I was the greatest psychophsiologic example, and that I
had the greatest Autogenic abilities he has ever seen (or something like
that). He also used a term something like psychoneuroimmunology if that makes
any sense. Anyway, he then tells me to open my hand and starts to place
objects in them. He tells me that I am holding a banana and he wants me to
crush it. I squeeze the "banana" and I feel it "squish"
like a banana. I hear everyone start murmuring in disbelief. I have no idea
what they placed in my hand but I do know it sure as hell wasn't a banana.
Soon after this I start to feel sick. I fall off my chair. I am sweating
profusely, and I start convulsing as I begin to throw up. As I am laying on my
left side on the floor throwing up on my self. The psychologist comes over to
me and looks into my eyes, he drops me and starts yelling at Dr. Purrizzo
"HOW MUCH DID YOU GIVE HIM!... HOW MUCH DID YOU GIVE HIM! HIS PUPILS ARE
DILATED AND HE NEEDS TO GO TO THE HOSPITAL RIGHT NOW!!!. NOW HOW MUCH DID YOU
GIVE HIM?" Dr. Purizzo answers "two thousand". The psychologist
answers "YOU GAVE HIM TWO THOUSAND, HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?" Dr.
Purrizzo answers "and then another two thousand when he wouldn't
answer". The psychologist answers "FOUR THOUSAND! HAVE YOU GONE
TOTALLY INSANE?. THIS KID HAS TO GO TO THE HOSPITAL RIGHT NOW!" Four
thousand what I don't know (milligrams, milliliters, Cc's) I don't know, all I
remember is the numbers. I keep throwing up and I hear then arguing. The
psychologist is yelling at Dr. Purrizzo "you said you had a plan, what's
your plan". Dr. Purrizzo answers "I was sure we would get it out of
him that he was lying, and then we would be excused from taking him because he
was a lier." "THAT'S IT!!!? THAT WAS YOUR PLAN, TO KIDNAP A KID AND
THEN NO ONE WOULD PRESS CHARGES BECAUSE HE WAS LYING TO YOU ABOUT TAKING
STEROIDS? YOU HAVE GONE ABSOLUTELY INSANE!" Dr. Purrizzo then says
"We will take him to my office and give him an Emergency lobotomy so he
will never tell anyone!" Mrs. Purrizzo then steps up and says "IF
YOU HURT THAT CHILD I WILL TELL!" Dr. Purrizzo then turns to her as he is
laughing and says "WHO ARE YOU GOING TO TELL?" "THE
POLICE" SHE SAYS "I WILL TELL THE POLICE!" He starts calling
her a little bitch and how he is disgusted that she would turn against her own
husband for this kid. "I will not allow you to hurt that child" she
says. He says "WELL DID YOU REALLY THINK I WAS JUST GOING TO LET HIM GO,
AFTER WHAT HE DID TO ME AT THE TRIAL." "I WILL NOT ALLOW YOU TO HURT
THAT CHILD" she repeats. Then there is some discussion as to what to do.
Finally the psychologist comes over to me as I am covered with vomit and
barley able to remain conscious. He starts swinging this little metal ball on
the end of a string in front of my face. I try to watch it as he tells me to
and then everything goes black. I wake up, and I am on the front steps of my
house and my car is parked on the street front of the house (I know I didn't
drive it home because I always pull into the driveway). I have a lot of
trouble getting up, it feels like I am drunk or something and I go right to
bed. The next morning, I have trouble getting up in the morning and I can't
quite make it out but I had the weirdest dream about being in a hotel room,
and Dr. Purrizzo was there. I remembered most of the events but it was very
foggy.

The weekend goes by and then after my workout on Tuesday as I am driving
around in the same spot there is the bronco again. This time I remember what
happened and I am pissed off. I get out and I slam the door and I start
yelling at Mrs. Purrizzo. As I am yelling at her and walking towards the car,
she rolls down the window and starts to say something, then the next thing I
know is I am back in the hotel room again. I was in some sort of hypnotic
trance or something. I couldnít move, and the psychologist then instructs me
to start squeezing things again.

He has this little gauge and when I squeeze the hand grip I break it. After he
ran all of his tests, then it was Dr. Purrizzoís turn. He makes me act like a
monkey and try and lick myself. I remember jumping around the room stretching
like a monkey and feeling very stupid as they laughed at me. Then he makes me
act like a chicken and does many other things to humiliate me. This goes on
for hours.

Finally, the women who are in the room tell the men to get out because they
now want to have "their" fun with me. The women with the black hair
now comes over to me. She says a few words to me. I don't know what they were
but all of a sudden I felt a feeling like I had never felt before, I felt like
an animal, territorial, like a primal beast, I got up and started walking
around the hotel room pacing back and forth. My muscles are all pumped up, my
arms all muscled and out to the side and my chest is fully expanded as I strut
around the room. I am looking to defend my lair against any male who may come
near. If I see another male I will kill him. As I look over to one of the beds
the woman in the black hair is naked and on her hands and knees. She has her
back arched and is waving her butt around like she is some bitch in heat. I
see her and get an instant erection. I walk over to her, rip off my shorts and
start, excuse the term, f*cking the shit out of her. I pick her up like she is
a five year old and just started wailing into her. I felt like a primal
animal. I f*cked her like I was some sort of a beast from the stone age. And
she was loving every minute of it. I wasn't reaching climax, I was just
nailing the shit out of this woman. It wasn't pleasure I was feeling it was
more of a territorial act if that makes any sense. After a while I pulled out
and literally tossed her aside when I saw Mrs. Purrizzo sitting naked in a
chair in the corner masturbating as she watched me nail her friend. I grab her
by the hair and throw her on the bed and repeat the same procedure with Mrs.
Purrizzo. This went on for hours as the women had me "f*ck them" in
different positions, in their Vaginia as well as their anus. Carrying out
every sick fantasy they had, I would do what ever they told me to do to them.
I an f*cking the woman with the black hair in a chair in the corner. So hard
that she has passed out, I didn't care I just kept right on going until I
heard voices coming from behind me, male voices. I hear "WHAT THE F*CK
ARE YOU GIRLS DOING" and then I hear Mrs. Purrizzo say "well what
did you think we were going to do with him". "I don't know? I
thought you were going to make him act like a chicken or something" I
hear him say. I pull out of the woman with the black hair and toss her onto
the floor. I turn and see Dr. Purrizzo and a few other men by the door.
Without thinking I reach down and grab the chair by the leg with my left hand,
I stand up and grab the other leg with my other hand and rip the chair apart
like breaking a wishbone. It was like the chair was made out of toothpicks or
something because it took no effort at all, I just ripped it apart. I now had
a chair leg in my left hand and I toss the rest of the chair off to the side.
I start walking toward the men with my "club" my "weapon".
Mrs. Purrizzo becomes frantic and starts yelling "HE WILL KILL YOU! GET
OUT NOW!. HE WILL KILL YOU" to Dr. Purrizzo and she runs toward me to
give the men time to get out, I push her aside and the men are scurrying out
the door. They left in such a hurry they didn't close the door. I wasn't
running toward them, just walking very fast, when they left I didn't go after
them I just wanted them out of "my lair". I slam the door closed,
lock and chain it, toss my club aside and grab Mrs. Purrizzo and toss her onto
the bed. I remember feeling anger as she was "disobedient" and I
nailed her as hard as I could until she had passed out. Then the woman with
the black hair comes over again and this goes on and on. I don't know how it
ended but the next thing I know is I am laying on my front steps again, and
again my car is parked on the street and not in my driveway.

Over the next few weeks I would find myself stopping at the same spot about
once a week. I don't know why, but some times I would just pull the car over.
The next thing I know is I'm back in the hotel room. This time there are four
women (Mr. Purrizzo, the woman with the black hair, and two others I had never
seen before). I remember feeling like "an animal" again. As I was
pounding one of the women against the head board I hear voices behind me. This
time there are at least ten people watching. I see two of the women I had
already had sex with on their knees giving a blowjob to one of the men (I
think it was the husband of the women I was screwing at the time). These sick
people are now getting off watching me screw their wives. And again I throw
the women I am screwing aside and go after the men. And again the women run
interference so the men can get out the door. I wake up and I am trying to get
into my house.

Another time everything is black and all I remember is hearing "G*D DAMN
IT! HE'S GONE SOFT AGAIN!". I struggle to open my eyes and I am laying on
my back, there is a woman on top of me. She was a bit heavier then the other
two and not quite as good looking. I push her off of me as I try and get up.
As I am coming around immediately the woman with the black hair comes over to
me and tells me to look her in her eyes, to focus and to look at her. I
remember looking at her and then after that all is black again. This time I
wake up in the back seat of my car which is parked on the street in front of
my house.

Another time the woman with the black hair and Mrs. Purrizzo decide to take me
to the woman with the black hair's house. They must have been drugging me as
well as having me in a hypnotic trance because they were trying to get me out
of the car and I could not move. I was as limp as a rag doll and these two
women who weighed no more then 115 pounds each are trying to get me, a 230
pound kid, out of the bronco and into the house. I remember them having a very
hard time and being dragged across the ground up the front steps and into the
house. I remember this because someone had called the Police and they show up
at the house about five minutes later. The two women are frantically trying to
figure out what to do. They sit me on the steps going to the up stairs. The
woman with the black hair tells me that Mrs. Purrizzo is my mother and you
just had your tonsils out and your are still groggy from the anesthetic. She
opens the door for the Police and tells him the story how Mrs. Purrizzo cannot
go home yet because her house is being painted, and her son is still groggy
from being under anesthetic. The cop asks me if I am all right, and I tell him
that I'm fine and I confirm the women's story. The cop leaves and they close
the door. They start telling me how I was "such a good boy". I
remember them telling me how they are going to do treat me "extra
special" for being such a good boy. They were trying to get me up the
stairs and they were complaining because I wasn't helping them enough. I kept
telling them "I'm trying! what have you done to me?" "Nothing
Andy!" they said. I remember them throwing me on the bed and then I felt
them trying to get my cloths off, after that everything is black. To this day
I remember which house they brought me to, and where it is.

May 1988-June 1988- The recruiting "scuffle" has basically past and
I have my college selections narrowed down to two or three schools. My heart
is set on going to Penn State. In the mail mysteriously comes a letter from
West point stating I was scheduled to have my physical taken to continue my
application process for acceptance into West point. I never had discussed
attending West point with anyone. At first I thought it was my father playing
some kind of sick of joke. I spoke to him and he knew nothing about it. The
physical date comes and goes. About a week later another letter comes stating
that I have been "rescheduled" for another physical appointment at
West point. This date comes and goes. A few days later I get a phone call, the
person asks why I had not gone for the physical. I tell him that had no
interest in attending any military academy much less West point since my
father was an Annapolis graduate. About a week later another letter arrives,
this one states that my presence is now requested at the US Navel Academy to
have my physical taken for admittance into the US Navel Academy. This date
also comes and goes. That was the last incident involving the academies
however since my academic record and my SAT scores were not even close to
academy standards the whole incident is very suspicions.

Dr. Purrizzo comes to my house, rings the bell and tells me he wants to speak
with me out on the street. He proceeds to tell me that he has "made a
great mistake". After rechecking my DNA pattern against the correct
hereditary background it turns out that I am the one with the superior DNA
code. In fact, he says we used your code to determine dominance of some
unknown markers. He knows of my situation with Penn State and tries to give me
$4,600. The money was for college for me. I tell him I don't want his money (I
also knew that if I had accepted that money as "payment" for damages
done that I could not sue him latter, I think that this was his plan and
that's why he had gotten so mad when I would not accept it). After my final
episode with Mrs. Purrizzo and the woman with the black hair they have a wad
of cash for me. "Andy take it!. You've more that earned it" she
says. I tell her I don't want her dirty money and I hope she chokes on it.

A few days after that Dr. Purrizzo shows up again at my house, tells me to
walk with him to the street again. He tells me that "he has been
discussing it with this psychologist friend and that my mind functions in such
a way in the subconscious THAT HE CAN MAKE ME THE MOST POWERFULL MAN IN THE
WORLD". He then tell me to get into his car and he wants to take me to
his office to do this for me. I say "REALLY?. OK.. I'll go, but only if
my mother comes with me... Can my mother come with me?" He says that this
is just between "us men". I tell him to go f*ck himself and start
walking towards my house. He starts talking "Your a very smart kid! you
had a 50/50 chance! we were going to get drunk and then decide whether to make
you the most powerful man in the world or give you a lobotomy." I stop
and turn to him and say "do you really thing I'm going to believe you
when you tell me that YOU are going to make ME the most powerful man in the
world? you might do this but ONLY if you could control me, if you could not
control me then you would have to destroy me! Do you think I am that stupid?
Now get the fuck out of here before I call the cops!." He then says
"as I said you are one smart kid". He gets in his car and drives
away.